Seams

I was sewing a seam one day --
Just this way --
Flashing four silver stitches there
With thread, like this, fine as a hair,
And then four here, and there again,
When
The seam I sewed dropped out of sight...
I saw the sea come rustling in,
Big and grey, windy and bright...
Then my thread that was as thin
As hair, tangled up like smoke
And broke.
I threaded up my needle, then --
Four here, four there, and here again.

Hazel Hall

This Strange Dream

I dreamed I saw you flying

high above a mountain

in a very blue sky.

You rose up on a plume of warmth

then wafted slowly towards the earth.

You landed in a forest by an ancient tree.

I dreamed you sat to wait for me.

I came as light

filtering through the leaves,

falling across your spirit.

Then I became a woman.

My hands became powerful

and I began to gather in the strength of things.

Then you became a woman.

You spread your arms

and crimson flowers spilled from your breasts.

We walked until we found a river.

The river flowed out from you,
to its end,

which was me.

We bathed often and were clean.

I became seed and sun and rain.

You became earth.

And when again we stood upright,

in bodies molded from your own clay,

the river was still there.

But it was swollen and dark

and it carried the corpses of things

we had drowned.

I felt the pain of that.

And I feel the pain even now,

awake so long

from this strange dream

of petals

and mystery

and love.

(February 1987, Wanakena, NY)

A tree first brought me the idea of bodhicitta but I didn't get that word until 9 years later

I once planted a liriodendron tulipifera

that my grandmother brought to me as a sapling.

The deer ate it every year and it got mowed several times

but it still grew tall and straight,

until it was too big to be hurt by those sorts of things anymore.

I want my heart to grow like that,
tall and straight,
so it will no longer close
when it is eaten by loneliness,
jealousy, anger, envy.

The liriodendron tulipifera has beautiful glossy leaves --

like large, beckoning hands.
It has flowers like great bowls of nectar --

an offering to the birds and butterflies and bees.

I want my heart to open like that,
as if with large beckoning hands

that can offer great bowls of nectar to the world.